Close to Home
by thisisawittypenname
Summary: NS: Sara's there for him when he needs it Post Grave Danger: Oneshot


Title: Close to Home

Disclaimer: Still not mine…. Regretful, I know.

Spoilers: 5x24 "Grave Danger"

A/N: Just letting everyone know this is a short little one-shot, seeing as I forgot to mention it in a different fic… which made me feel like an idiot. So, this is definitely a one-shot. I hope it came out alright; between you, me, and whoever else reads this, I've never actually seen "Grave Danger", though I desperately want to. Enough stalling…. Here you go!

He'd never regretted leaving Texas for Vegas. Of course he _missed_ it sometimes; it was his home, and it was where his family. But he was the youngest, the baby of the family, and he needed to go, to work and live somewhere where people didn't know the name "Stokes". When he was offered a chance to work with Dr. Gil Grissom in one of the best labs in the country, he took it, and, in the process, left Texas behind. In Las Vegas, the only "Stokes" people knew was him. He was free. Back in Texas, he was suffocated.

But then Vegas suffocated him; burying him alive in a Plexiglas coffin. And, his mind fogged with hysteria, he thought, yes, of his co-workers and friends here, but also a great deal of Texas and of his family.

He got very homesick in the few days following.

But maybe that wasn't the right word. Yes, he missed his family, and his hometown, but rather than feel homesick for Texas, he felt more "homesick" for what it represented to him; a place where, although he was known as the littlest Stokes, he wasn't covered with fire ants. A place where Nigel Crane had never existed and a place where a gun had never been pointed at his head.

His friends did a lot for him; cheering him up any way they could. Greg, mercifully, refrained from asking him or talking about it, as Nick assumed he would, instead goading Nick into smiling with tales of Hodges and his inexistent success with his "lady friend". Catherine, as Nick had expected, had become more motherly, toward all the team, actually. But it was nice, sometimes, to see how much she cared. Warrick, of course, fulfilled his role as best friend, joking and laughing; anything to distract Nick, although he knew his friend must still be suffering from the guilt of that fateful coin toss. Nick tried to let him know he didn't blame him in the least. Grissom just remained calm and quiet, not wanting to overwhelm Nick with more fuss and commotion around the lab.

But it was Sara who helped him the most. She seemed to understand the most out of all of them; willing to give Nick his space, but inexplicably, able to comfort and support him with just a soft grazing of their hands. Anyone else's touch made Nick claustrophobic; his body jerked away from the offender before he could even realize it. But with Sara… he was perfectly willing, happy, even, to sit next to her on the break room couch, closer than strictly necessary, and accept her friendly pat on the back. He made no complaint when her hand, after the innocent pat, slid all the way across the top of his neck, from one shoulder blade to the other. It was natural, comfortable, for him when, while running her hand across the back of his neck, Sara pivoted her wrist for just a second, her fingernails raked lightly across his skin.

It's this sort of thing that makes him feel more at home; that assures him human contact is not confining or constricting.

And I was (partially) secure in this knowledge that Nick shifted on the couch, slipping an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He's equal parts relieved and elated when she complies, molding comfortably to his side, her head resting lightly on his chest.

"I'm glad you're ok, Nicky." She presses her words into the clean cotton of his shirt; he can feel her breath through the material.

This is the first time he hasn't tensed up at the mere mention of it, Nick realizes vaguely. And he's proud' too proud to register it might be because of present company.

"Me too" he admits, his voice barely a whisper. "Thanks."

She doesn't reply, just buries her head further into him, yawning sleepily. His grips tightens, just barely, as he leans his head back, supporting it on the back of the couch. He, too, yawns, closing his eyes. Shift was almost over, he was tired, both mentally and physically, and he felt so at ease here with Sara. He settled into the couch, sighing contentedly. He was barely aware when Sara leaned upwards to plant a soft kiss on the tip of his nose before mumbling a quiet, embarrassed "You're welcome" as he dozed off into a sleep. A sleep that was, for the first time since **it** happened, void of nightmares.

And suddenly, he didn't feel so homesick.

A/N: So what do you think? I didn't want to make the interaction between the two _too_ heavy, because…. I don't know, I guess for me that would just feel weird. Still, let me know what you think. And a happy 2006!


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